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You remembered hearing stories from your Nana about her connection with her soulmate, your step-grandfather. She called him Bear. He smelled of old smoke packets and mints. He was her second husband and from the few memories you had of the man, they were the happiest when they were together.
(Even though your Nana constantly reminded you that you were the number one person in her life.)
They had taken you in after your parents had died in a freak plane accident, just as you turned seven. It was nobody’s fault in the end but it’s difficult for a child to understand the complexities of the sudden death of both of their direct caregivers. You regressed into yourself more after that. Everything you had ever known and loved had changed in the span of a week. You didn’t want to go outside anymore. You lost interest in your friends. It was difficult to keep relationships if you were constantly afraid of losing those you loved.
Slowly, these stories came out over cups of tea, and when you were tucked into bed on rainy nights. You memorised the words on her wrist, a handwritten sentence. “I couldn’t walk past you and not tell you how utterly beautiful you look today.” It was rather long for a soulmark and from what you remember, your step grandfather’s was a very short: “holy heck,” that hid itself behind his right ear. Her first husband had died suddenly one day, not too long after your mother had been born. The two met after your Nana attended the ballet with your mom as a child, during the break. It was unusual for soulmates to meet. Some lived in other countries, had different languages written on parts of their bodies. Some were already in committed relationships by the time they would meet. Even though soulmarks were scarce, love wasn’t promised.
You just so happened to be unfortunate (or lucky, when you looked back on those memories as an adult) to have one of your own. It wasn’t impressive, or terribly unique. You expected in the very least, a fully formed sentence. But no. You weren’t that fortunate in that aspect of life either.
“ Uh, ah I-, uh…”
It was weird. And confusing. Yes, you were quiet and not much of a people person, and yes, your social skills were less than impressive but you hoped that whoever your soulmate was had a better one than yourself. The lack of words gave way to scenarios in your head. Daunting possibilities that made your gut churn.
But it was nice to dream of happiness.
So you held onto her memories like you held onto your wrist and the words that curved crevices into your mind. Maybe you’ll meet them in this lifetime.
The end of the school day was signalled by the squeaking of chairs on linoleum floors and the buzzing of loud schoolchildren through the open windows. You were quietly thankful that classes were over for the summer. The classrooms weren’t going to receive air conditioning until over the summer period and it wasn’t a question of how long you could last in a humid classroom but more or less when you would pass out. So yes, getting out of there was a good idea.
Gathering your things, you slung your bag over your shoulder and made quick work of exiting the school grounds. Oh, maybe the convenience store will have some [favourite popsicle flavour] left! You grinned cheekily, looking forward to the walk home. The fastest way to the convenience store was via the stockbank, so that way you went!
Reigen Arataka, upon the completion of another long and arduous day of removing dastardly demonic entities from the nearby supermarket, watched as his young companion cried his eyes out. He patted Shigeo's back, as he cried into his hands. After hearing about the tragic love story of the two ghosts who had died after one had trapped themselves in the walk-in freezer and their lover, who died of blood loss due to being distracted on the meat cutter, Shigeo had worked himself up to confess to Tsubomi.
Shigeo had admitted that he knew that Tsubomi wasn’t his soulmate. He wasn’t even sure if she had one, given that he’d never seen any writing on her skin. But, somewhere in his soul, he had to at least try. He’d be content with knowing he tried.
“She wasn’t worth it kid!” Dimple said, floating next to his shoulder, his tiny fists balled up angrily. “She’s all beauty, no brains!”
But now that Reigen looks at him, the more he thinks that maybe the kid was lying to himself. Love was a burning thing, after all. It doesn’t sit the way you expect it to. Not logically, at least.
“Dry your tears, Shigeo,” He said, not as an order but in the way a mother would console a child who was being melodramatic. “Let’s go get some takoyaki.”
Wiping his face, Shigeo stood up, looking drained and weary. Today had been a constant fluctuation of his moods, and the rejection had plummeted his confidence severely. Shigeo shook his head, picking up his shoulder bag. “Thanks, Master, but I don’t I feel like going out right now,” The boy murmured. “I think I’ll just go home and sleep.”
Reigen’s eyebrows lifted, hands deep into his pants pockets. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll take the river path home. It’s the fastest way.”
“Poor kid,” Dimple murmurs. “What a shit day.”
Reigen couldn’t help but silently agree.
While some passersby would think the teenager was shameless, Shigeo was a bundle of nerves on the slow walk home. (The teenager had a stream of tears running down his cheeks, his fringe barely covering the tired lines from under his eyes.) Maybe he dragged his feet intentionally, afraid of pouring his feelings out to Ritsu, in case he was rejected again. He always told him that he could talk to him, no matter what. So why was he second-guessing?
It sucked. This feeling sucked. Shigeo looked at his wrist, at those words he had memorised, and sighed. He just wanted this feeling to go away.
Hearing footsteps approach him at a quick pace, Shigeo looked up to see a [hair colour] streak jogging, a grin wide on their face. He noted that their uniform was from his own school but the raven haired teen didn’t recognise the person. He stepped to the side to allow the person through, only to hear the footsteps stop, and then speed back up again.
The teen who had sped past him had run back to Shigeo, almost puffed out. Their hands were looking for something in their pockets. “Hey, sorry to bother you! Look, I’m sure I have a tissue he - Shit cunt, ow that hurt!”
The image of the person crying over being stabbed with a mechanical compass was all that he could see. No noise was present, only the reverberation of his heart thudding in his chest. He couldn’t believe it.
“Uh, ah I-, uh…”
[Mob’s emotion level: 100%]
[Caution: Overwhelming Joy]
Redder than he had ever been before, Shigeo blinked and watched how those [eye colour] eyes widened indefinitely before his vision went black.
Bonus Scene!
“Please don’t tell the story that way when he’s older,” Shigeo pleads tiredly as he tries to hum the small child to sleep. It was embarrassing enough that he had passed out in front of you, let alone the thought of him having to explain to his future child why there were swear words on his arm.
“Don’t worry,” You tell your love, smiling at how he handled your son so delicately. “I’ll tell him we were happy.”